


Trial & Error: The Coming of Sith Lord

by gagamilkovich



Category: Shameless (US), Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Angst, Crossover, Foreplay, Friendship, Gay Sex, M/M, Not entirely accurate to the game, POV Multiple, Rough Sex, Sex, Sith Academy, Sith Empire, Sith Order, Sith Training, Slavery, gay relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 04:03:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gagamilkovich/pseuds/gagamilkovich
Summary: When Mickey arrives on Korriban to become Sith, the obstacles in his path are what shaped him to become one of the most powerful Sith Lord's the galaxy has ever seen.





	Trial & Error: The Coming of Sith Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Hey darlings! My name is Lucas and I'm writing a crossover fic of one of my favorite games ever (Star Wars: The Old Republic) and my favorite TV couple of all time (Ian Gallagher / Mickey Milkovich.) This is a work in progress, I don't know how many chapters I'm going to do, it all depends on my mood. Anyways, enjoy the fic!

The Imperial Shuttle dropped out of hyperspace right above an orange-red colored dustball of a planet. 

Korriban-- the former heart of the Sith Empire--now, just a desolate tomb world full of nothing but moldering artifacts, Sith Scholars and Sorcerers scrabbling for any advantage those things might grant them, and the Sith Academy. Now that he saw it, Mickey thought even less of it. 

Why the Empire had spent resources recapturing this place would remain a mystery to him.

Other than Mickey, there were 5 other Hopeful’s aboard the transport: Ffon, Kory, Balek, Wydr, and Gerr.

Ffon was a pure-blood Sith who was all too full of himself which rubbed Mickey in more wrong ways than right.

Gerr was a tall, masculine boy with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes Mickey had ever laid eyes on. He seemed a little dim-witted but was cheerful, despite where they were headed.

Kory was a small, frail little girl. Her fiery red hair and turquoise eyes made her look anything but Sith, but power radiated from her, at least Mickey could sense it.

And finally, Balek and Wydr, the brothers with brown hair darker than the soil of Kashyyyk. Those two were physically shaking with fear, which amused Mickey slightly.

The shuttle had been a welcome silence since leaving the fleet. The other Acolytes she traveled with seemed nervous beyond words which suited him just fine. He had no desire for small-talk. Now that Korriban was in sight and growing larger in their minds by the second as they made their approach, the other Acolytes became restless. They ooh-ed and ahh-ed, one trembled, another audibly crying. Mickey simply sat stoic and unmoved. 

Just another ship full of fools traveling to a whole planet full of even bigger ones.

The shuttle made its approach to one of the less crumbly temples and touched down. The cabin door swung with a blast of hot, dry air. The smell of heat and decay assaulted the new acolytes, and dust was already collecting on the exit ramp.

The Sith Hopefuls were directed into a room, if it could even be called such, as it only had walls on three sides. The rest was open to the harsh Korriban elements. Mickey felt the sweat collecting in the small of his back, but he wasn’t uncomfortable. After all, he had grown used to worse conditions in the mines he used to work in. The rest of the acolytes looked worse for the wear. They gaped at their surroundings, wide-eyed, sweat beading on their dumb-struck faces. He was sure one of them had soiled themselves. 

They’d be dead by sundown most likely. A lovely meal for the K'lor'slugs.

Mickey fell behind the rest of the group, examining the intricate carvings of each statue that lined the walls surrounding the hangar bay. 

Not bad, he had seen better though. 

He pranced into the bay nonchalantly and was greeted coldly by a sinister looking man.

“Ah, the last one to arrive is finally here. I hope you don’t think you’re special,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer. 

The man was undeniably Sith; it wasn’t just in his bearing but in the palpable aura of dark strength that surrounded him. He was obviously used to intimidating those around him with his presence alone… though his armored robes and the lightsaber at his belt certainly contributed. He was human, with brunette hair, silver eyes and a little beard perched at the end of his chin like a caterpillar. There was a diamond-shaped red marking – possibly a tattoo – on his forehead, the lower point of which curled around beneath his right eye.

“It would be a shame if freedom went to your head- or if you somehow got the idea you didn’t need to pass your trials to become Sith,” the man continued, the derision clear in his voice. There was such vitriol in the way he spoke to Mickey. that the other acolytes got another all-too-familiar look on their collected faces: that of people who were glad they weren’t the targets of it. Mickey had seen it on the faces of his former slaves many times.

Mickey hardly seemed intimidated by the man, his eyes rolling back as the man spat at him.

He scoffed, “I know I need to pass the trials. And I will,” he said cockily.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the retorted. “I am Overseer Harkun, and Darth Soréya has tasked me with sorting through you refuse to find one worthy of being her apprentice, and I intend to do just that. You will prove yourselves to me or die trying.”

“Now, now, Harkun, don’t get all sentimental on us now, we’ve only just met!” Mickey said, speaking with deliberate disdain for Harkun’s venom. He’d learned from previous experiences with harsh masters that showing you weren’t bothered by them was the best way to intimidate them. It wouldn’t be any different with this man, it was working pretty well judging from the venomous glare he kept shooting to him as he spoke. 

Some of the other acolytes visibly winced, but Mickey couldn’t bother to care; if they wanted to walk on eggshells around Harkun, terrified of what he might do to them, that was their business.

The Overseer knew he was being mocked, though, and replied coldly, “I won’t.”

Then he turned back to the other acolytes, and they all stepped back, their fear of Harkun so intense that Mickey could practically feel it pouring off them. But Harkun made no move to punish them for Mickey’s insolence, and merely said, “Now the rest of you gutter trash already know your trial. Get going while I bring our latecomer up to speed.”

Four of them, including Balek and Wydr, seemed grateful for the chance to escape Harkun’s wrath, and immediately walked away. Kory, however, held back, looking at Mickey with concern.

“Watch your back, friend. And don’t worry. It’ll be alright. Harkun can’t kill us all,” she said, attempting to reassure him. She probably thought he was actually as frightened of Harkun as she was.

Well, maybe he was afraid, only a little though. It wouldn’t be enough to stop him though.

“We can take him. I’ll attack from the front, you attack from behind, and we’ll see how he fares,” Mickey suggested in a low voice. It was actually a joke, but it was said in such a deadly serious tone of voice that the girl didn’t realize it. Her face blanched, and she stepped back from him a little, apparently almost as frightened of him as she was of Harkun.

That suited Mickey just fine. He was starting to develop a feel for how he wanted to deal with his fellow acolytes, and other Sith as well. And the Empire as a whole. Clearly, the fact that he had once been a slave meant he would always be regarded with contempt. It didn’t surprise him, not in the slightest, but it was somewhat tiresome. It bothered him a little, too, because he was learning enough about his own strength to know that he was powerful enough to complete the trials and become Sith.

“Uh… yeah. Looks like you can handle yourself,” the girl said, hurrying away.

“Are you quite done, slave?” Harkun asked. “Now, here’s your trial: there’s a hermit named Spindrall who lives in the tomb of Ajunta Pall in the Valley of the Dark Lords. Spindrall is a lunatic, but Darth Soréya sees him as some kind of prophet. Once you find him, he will test you.”

“Sounds fun,” Mickey commented dryly, and even he wasn’t sure how much of that was sarcasm, and how much was a genuine statement of how he felt. A real challenge for his abilities would be useful, definitely; Balek and Wydr hadn’t really been able to keep up with him despite the fact they both had a significant physical advantage over him. But on the other hand, how much fun could crawling around in a tomb really be? Yes, he would learn a lot, but he wasn’t sure it would actually be enjoyable.

But he was hardly going to let Harkun know that.

“There, you know your task. Don’t keep Spindrall waiting, slave,” Harkun spat, and Mickey took that as the dismissal it was. It seemed that regardless of his status as an acolyte, Harkun was never going to see him as anything but a slave.

Prickling a little with indignation at Harkun’s derision, Mickey exited the landing platform and headed into the spaceport, following the route the other acolytes had taken. He went up a flight of steps, then turned a corner and climbed another, before stepping out through a door and onto another raised platform. He slowed and then stopped. His eyes were immediately drawn to the huge pyramid at the far end of the valley, several kilometers away from his current position, looming over the whole valley and casting a vast shadow. The sun was perfectly framed behind the tip of the pyramid in a way that had to be deliberate; this temple must have been built on that spot for that very purpose.

The sides of the valley were lined with large statues of ancient Sith, and a number of red and black banners bearing the Imperial crest hung from the cliffs. These banners were a celebration of Imperial might and dominance over Korriban. It marked this world as truly being a part of the Empire in a way that Mickey simply wasn’t.

Mickey pulled his eyes away from the furthest reaches of the valley and focused instead on the area immediately in front of him. That had to be his highest priority right now: figuring out where he was supposed to go and locating the hermit Spindrall.

The bottom of the valley was filled with ruins, as he had seen when he’d first landed. Many of them appeared to have collapsed entirely, and Mickey hoped none of these were the tomb of Ajunta Pall, as excavating them would be quite bothersome. He had no idea where Ajunta Pall’s tomb was – actually, he didn’t really know who Ajunta Pall was. He was obviously a Sith important enough to warrant a special tomb – but a bit of exploration would hopefully lead him in the right direction.

A set of stairs took Mickey down from the platform, and he soon realized that the immediate area was entirely enclosed by the cliffs. He stepped out onto the red sand, it only took a few seconds for him to locate the footprints left behind by the other acolytes, and with no better idea of where to go in mind, he followed them. 

It didn’t take long for Mickey to find what had to be the right tomb. The trail of footprints descended deeper into the Valley of the Dark Lords, leading right towards one of the nearest ruins, which was somewhat larger and more impressive than the smaller ones surrounding it. 

This had to be the tomb of Ajunta Pall.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm superrrr proud of this work, it took me a long time to write because I kept starting over and over because I don't know how to start things sksksksk. But anyways, shoot me a follow on twitter @gagamilkovich and stay tuned for more chapters! xx


End file.
